


A Detective and his Angel

by bearcatkat



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, JOURNEY OF THE HERO, LITERALLY, M/M, and maybe beyond, crossover of the ultimate proportion, it'll basically be all of the major events leading up to season six, probs going to derail from the actual show but, this is probably a terrible idea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:16:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearcatkat/pseuds/bearcatkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a stormy night in November, Sherlock and Mycroft's lives were changed forever - it all starts with two brothers, a car, and the mission to save the human race from the things that go bump in the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, in essence, I took Supernatural and I put the Sherlock characters where I thought they fit.  
> PLEASE let me know if this is a good idea in the comments or with kudos, and I'll continue it.  
> I also have no beta so if you are up for that please let me know.

**_November 2, 1983_ **

"Come on, let's say good night to your brother." A woman, with a beautiful, kind face framed by blond hair, pushed a young boy into a warmly lit nursery.

"'Night, Sherlock." The boy stared absently at the child in the cradle before exiting the room.

"Goodnight, love," she cooed, kissing the baby's forehead softly. She turned to leave the room, white nightgown fluttering slightly from the movement, but she was blocked by a looming man in a USMC t-shirt.

"Did Mycroft...?"

"Yes, he's already gone to his room. Do you got him, John?" She gestured to the crib.

"I got him," John stated, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Mary winked at him, exiting to return to the master bedroom.

"'Night, Sherlock." John murmured, flicking off the lights and turning down the hall to a room labeled 'Mycroft ONLY.'

Sherlock, now alone, started to breathe slowly, falling into the light sleep of baby-hood.

And, above the crib, the baseball themed mobile slowly began to turn.

XXX

The lonely cries of a baby pierced through the dark house, mostly through a crackling baby monitor, which woke an extremely exhausted Mary. Throwing her covers aside, she turned to the untouched sheets beside her.

"John?" She mumbled, yawning as she rolled out of bed and padded to her son's room. The soft blue paint on the walls of the house created a haunted aura in the dark corners of the hall, and Mary shook her head, feeling chills down her spine. _I'm really getting paranoid now_ , she mused, upset at her seemingly foolish fear, _This house is just cold._

Turning to the small bedroom holding her youngest son, she found a dark figure hovering over the white cradle in the corner if the room.

Shaking her head slightly, she asked, "John? Is he hungry?"

"Shh..." The shadowed John hushed her.

"All right." Mary turned from the room, heading back down the hallway. Near the stairs by her bedroom entrance, a small hall light was flickering rapidly. Mary wandered to the device, tapping it a few times before it returned to a steady glow of light.

"Huh." She muttered, before noticing another, whiter flickering light coming from the living room. Stepping down the stairs quietly, Mary rolled her eyes. _John left the TV on again_. Hitting the bottom of the stairs, she walked the short distance to the entrance of their living room.

Mary backed away slowly as she saw a softly snoring John holding a half empty bottle of beer in his right hand. An old war movie was playing silently on the television, casting the dim, flickering, white light Mary saw before.

With the realization that a mysterious shadow was in her son's room, Mary gasped, "Sherlock... Sherlock!" Spinning around, Mary raced up the stairs, speeding into Sherlock's room.

Moments later, John was awoken by a blood-curdling scream.

"Mary?" Scrambling out of his chair, he bolted towards the direction of the noise. "Mary!"

John skipped steps as he tumbled down the hall into Sherlock's nursery. "Mary..?" He asked quietly, looking around and only seeing his awoken son. John cupped the child's face, looking at him softly. Something dark dripped into the baby's cheek. John went to touch the strange substance, and two more drops landed in his hand.

It looked like blood.

Looking up with a foreboding sense of dread, he found Mary, white nightgown stained with blood, on the ceiling.

John dropped to the floor, clutching to the cradle for support.

"No! Mary!" Crying out, John watched in horror as the room burst into a flame that seemed like it was from Hell itself. Sherlock began to cry, snapping John out of shock. Scooping up his son, John spun out of the room, running into Mycroft in the hallway.

"Dad?" Mycroft cried, fear etched in his voice and expression.

John shoved Sherlock at his eldest son, and shouted harshly, "Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Mike , go!" Mycroft turned about-face, Sherlock clutched tightly in his arms, and bolted down the hallway.

John turned back to the nursery, looking for Mary, but the room is too engulfed in flame to see.

"Mary!" John pointlessly waved away smoke in an attempt to find his wife.

" _No!_ "

Outside, Mycroft cradled his younger brother beside a tall group of hedges he couldn't get through.

"It's okay, Sherlock." Mycroft murmured quietly, tears streaking down his ash-smudged face. Mycroft turned to Sherlock's window and saw a flash of gold, only for a moment.

John bursted outside and scooped up the brothers, calling, "I gotcha," as he carried them away.

Police and firefighters arrived minutes later, futilely attempting to maintain calm among the neighbors, as the firefighters quickly worked to smother the flames. John, holding Sherlock, stared emptily at his fire-ridden shell of a home. They sat on a '67 Chevy Impala, watching as their house lit up in red tendrils of fire.

Mycroft saw something behind John's eyes shatter.

 


	2. Halloween Isn't My Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. AP classes are KILLIN' me.  
> I think I'm going to start posting on Mondays, so I'll have time to write on Sunday.  
> Let me know if you all are chill with Monday releases.

_October 31, 2005_

 

"Sherlock?" A curvaceous woman wearing a sexy nurse outfit wandered into the hallway. Nothing accented the wall, except for an old picture of a young man and a woman with wild blond hair, smiling and cradling a baby between them.

"Hurry up, would you? We were supposed to be there at least fifteen minutes ago." She mused, tossing her dark hair from her shoulders.

"Must I go, Irene?" A tall, limber man stepped from a doorway halfway down the hall. His hair was wild and curly, with tufts of dark brown licking his ears. Donned in a loose, purple button up and dark jeans, he appeared stoic and formal. He leaned against the wall with an unamused expression across his face.

"Yes. It's required." Tugging his sleeve lightly, she teased, "Don't I look fantastic?"

Sherlock grunted.

"Where's your sexy nurse costume?"

"You know my feelings about this trivial holiday."

Pouting, Irene stopped pulling him along. She looked dead into his eyes.

"Spoil-sport."

XXX

Still clutching into Sherlock's sleeve, Irene pulled him into a bar. The bar was cluttered with costumed people and cheap spooky decor. Plastic gargoyles and artificial cobwebs were strewn around the room haphazardly, and music was booming above the loud drone of chatter.

"Why are we here?" Sherlock whined, reluctantly following his nurse.

"Because, dear, you rarely leave the apartment. Besides, we have a special occasion to celebrate!"

They approached the hostess area, where a sign scrawled with 'SEAT YOURSELVES' hung.

"Well. That makes it simple." Irene quipped, glancing back at Sherlock, who stood behind her, brooding. Grinning at his grumpiness, she tugged him to a high table with four seats.

"Atta' boy, sit down. I'm going to order us beer, and we are going to get drunk to celebrate. And you're-" she pointed at him, her finger nearly touching his nose, "- going to like it."

She rolled her eyes at his irritable expression and sashayed to the bar area, calling over the bar keep. Sherlock watched her as she held up two fingers and giggled at something. When she turned around, drinks in hand, she raised her right hand, still clutching a drink, to someone is the distance. Sherlock followed her gaze, seeing a young man with slicked back brown hair waving lazily back. Irene whipped back around towards Sherlock, then jerked her head towards the man. Sherlock groaned, but followed.  

"Irene, I cannot stand that man."

"Shut up and deal." Irene smirked back at Sherlock. They dodged drunk college students until they reached the small wooden table with the young man.

"Irene, you look hot!" The man smiled at her, a glint in his eye, then turned and said smoothly, "And look at you, Sherlock, dressed as yourself. Very cool."

Sherlock glared at him.

"Oh, hush, you! You honestly are the rudest man, Sebastian Lee Wilkes." Irene laughed airily, tossing her hair back.

"Oh, using my full name?"

"Yessir. You ought to be nice to Sherlock, anyway. He's got fantastic news!" Irene grinned at Sherlock while nudging his arm with her elbow.

"Irene-" Sherlock began.

"Here's to Sherlock and his superb LSAT score!" Irene raised the two drinks in her hands, setting one down in front of Sherlock. Sebastian raised his slightly, giving a half-nod to Sherlock.

"It's not that big of a deal." Sherlock muttered as he picked up his glass.

"He acts humble," Irene rolls her eyes, still grinning, "but he got a 174."

Sebastian tilted his head, then raised an eyebrow asking, "And that's good?"

Irene nodded, "Frighteningly so."

"Then you should be gloating! Feeding that huge ego of yours! You already deduce and freak out people anyway!" Sebastian chuckled, "You can go to any law school you want!"

Sherlock's mouth twitched into a tight smile as he says, "Yes. I have an interview Monday. It's possible I may get a full ride."

Irene smiled softly at him, wrapping her hand in his, "And you'll impress them with your quick  wit."

"Naturally." Sherlock tightened his hand minutely into hers.

"They'll want to enroll you in classes right then, of course."

"Yeah, yeah, you're a smarty," Sebastian quipped from the other end of the table, "I bet you're family's pretty happy to have a genius, huh? Or is everyone in your family like you?"

"They don't know." Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"Ha, see, I'd gloat if I were you. Like, literally, why aren't you gloating?"

"Shockingly enough, my family dynamic wasn't that of the Bradys, Sebastian." Sherlock droned with an annoyed eye roll.

"Whatever. No one is! Shots, anyone?" Sebastian asked, rising from his seat.

"No thanks, Seb." Irene said, Sherlock nodding alongside her.

"Whatever," Sebastian called as he waved a hand and meandered to the bar.

"Seriously, though, Sherlock," Irene held his chin softly, turning his head so their eyes met, "I'm proud of you. You will do marvelously, yeah? You'll get that full ride."

"Thank you, Irene." Sherlock allowed the smallest of smiles on his face.

"You know you'd crash and burn without me?"

"Of course."

Irene grinned as she pulled Sherlock in for a kiss.

XXX

Night had fallen, and Sherlock was cuddled around Irene in the small bed they shared when a soft click echoed throughout the apartment.

Sherlock's eyes flickered awake, and he sat up, alert and cautious. Irene moved slightly next to him, and Sherlock glanced down at her before slowly, and quietly, moving out of the bedroom. Moving stealthily through the darkness, Sherlock tilted his head up in search of another sound. Glancing into the living room, he saw a window open, the screen disconnected from the frame. The white curtains billowed in the soft wind.

Footsteps echoed in the kitchen; a shadow passed the doorway at the end of the hallway. Sherlock shifted closer to the door, and the figure entered the room, Sherlock tacked him, grabbing the man’s shoulder. The man threw a punch at Sherlock, who ducked and kicked the man. The man dodged his kick, wrestling Sherlock to the ground. The man held Sherlock, one hand at his neck, the other on his wrist.

“Woah, there, brother.”

Sherlock sighed.

“Hello, Mycroft.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irene as Jess? Is this okay?
> 
> Sherlock doesn't have a lot of female characters... sigh...
> 
> ALSO!   
> I don't have a beta so if you see anything I need to fix just let me know. Or if you'd like to beta, I'd love to become friends.


End file.
